


The Moonshine Sundrop Man

by LiAtlas



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, And anything else I happen to want!, Attempt at Realism, Author's Universe, Blood, F/M, Fate, Heartbreak, Mature for Character death, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiAtlas/pseuds/LiAtlas
Summary: Maybe it started when I was young, and I first watched those silly men go on an even sillier adventure. Or maybe it wasn't a 'start' at all, more so a knowledge, a recognition of existence without actually recognizing. Who knows why the dreams started, who knows "why him?" I've asked myself that as many times as there are stars in the sky, and I still don't have an answer. Maybe it's because the heavens don't have an answer for me. Maybe it's because the answer has been staring me in the face for the last ten years, and all I ever had to do was reach out - and ask.





	

_I’m dreaming again_. For the millionth time I wish I wasn’t, but even as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I recognize that I am. It’s a bizarre, abnormal feeling that pulses through my chest, straight out from that pounding organ to the very tips of my fingers. But I know it won’t last, it never does, just like I know that my alarm will strike seven with the intent of waking me up. _Too bad_ , I’m already awake.

 _He_ will be up soon too, up with a smile, ready for the new day, oblivious to the future awaiting him. If there only there was a way to make him understand that in the end, his struggles were real and would never go away, or get easier. They would, in fact, become harder and harder to deal with, a burden that grows with every passing year as he slowly nears that inevitable end we all face. Of course, that’s not the kind of thing you discuss with a six year old. I tried once, or twice, maybe more. I get that same toothy grin he always has for me when I’m down, he doesn’t understand in the slightest. All he can see is his mommy, his beautiful mommy that he “loves very much!”

I smile because that is something to smile for; it’s enough to bury that one dream I have every now and again. I’ve already forgotten the shade of his eyes.

The squeak of bed springs and patter of bare feet let me know that the time for dreaming is gone, the day is upon us, and there are things to be done.

* * *

**October 30, 2018**

He’s wanted to be Superman for the past two years, ever since we left ‘home,’ and I’m beginning to think he might be stuck in a rut. It’s not a terrible rut; I do what I can to make every new outfit something better than the year before. A tad more cape here and maybe some hand embroidering there. I’m not the best at that, but I tried every now and again. This year he wanted not just Superman, he wanted to be Super’ _batman_ ’ and I couldn’t help but choke a little. I’d already ordered some of those nifty little bat patches and long since began the process of ironing them on. Perhaps trying to blend the capes _hadn’t_ been the best idea, but the ugly grey/black thread would have to do, and I could try again next year.

He didn’t care, he loved it. Like a driver sliding into the seat of a brand new Camaro, he fit like a glove, running back and forth across the front room until he couldn’t anymore. It was World World and gummy worms then, leaving me to pace aimlessly across the kitchen floor as I hunted for something productive to do.

October was my busiest month, everyone wanted everything and there was always so much _paperwork_ involved. I’m not wholly sure how I did it. My sewing table was amassed with unfinished, un _started_ orders, screaming to be handled and made. Usually it wouldn’t be this hard, any other day and I would sit down at my corner and go to town on pieces I never could have dreamed of. People could be so creative sometimes and I _loved_ bringing their imaginations to life, as well as I could for sewing dolls and stuffed animals. Not exactly the ideal job I’d had in mind after _finally_ – seven months overdue! – making it to Pennsylvania.

I couldn’t place the unwarranted dysphoria that seemed to have settled over my mind, the day had started well with several successful phone-calls and a potential job offer hanging on the horizon. Maybe that was it, the possibility of plowing back into the workforce after two years of personal business. It definitely held weight, but the piece didn’t quite fit into that spot in the puzzle. I glance at my son and wonder if I’m anxious, Halloween was no more than seventeen hours away. That meant strange roads and even stranger houses, random people handing out untrustworthy candy and raucous bullies pushing smaller kids around. For him it meant absolute joy, he loved racing the other kids to the door and doing his best to scream louder than the next boy for his candy. Not that I necessarily condone all that, I usually have to scold him after two or three times.

No… that’s not it. Whatever it is it has no intention of showing itself anytime soon, leaving me a worried heap as I relent, and scrounge in the fridge for leftovers.

Nightfall is swiftly falling and I feel, I _know_ , that I’ve wasted the day, worrying my lips raw over this stupid, niggling issue. The phone rings and it’s Brandon, looking for his new ‘best friend.’ His new ‘best friend’ is beside himself and disappears into his room for what he pretended was privacy. Word World kicks into its beginning theme and I sing along, I know the words so well I can sing them without the music. I don’t particularly care for the show, but more often than not I’ll find myself sitting with Kas on the couch, analyzing the overly excessive adventures they have.

I can’t bring myself to stop playing it, even though we haven’t had cable for years, I still keep recordings of the show on a disk. It was his favorite, how could I say no? I try to get him into watching something new every now and again; he usually likes it, but always manages to get stuck watching _Word World_ in the end. Once I almost pulled my hair out, the strands in that spot are still shorter than the rest, I ruffle them self-consciously.

There is a sharp beep through the house and I turn just in time to see Kas peeking his head out of the darkness. “Mom, Courtney’s calling.”

A heavy knot forms in the pit of my stomach. There was only one reason she would be calling and I was wan to accept it, not now, not right _now_. It was too coincidental, I should have known as soon as I opened my eyes before the alarm this morning. I’ve had this feeling before, and in a deluge of emotion it comes rushing back to me. Kas holds the phone out, and with shaking fingers I clasp the receiver a litter tighter than I needed too.

“Is he gone.”

My feet have taken me from the living room and into the far hallway, leading me undeniably to the dark hole of my room. I know Kassiel is following, I send him away with a single gesture. Shutting the door I slowly sink into the covers on my bed, swallowing so hard I gasp.

“Yeah, he’s gone.” A pause, the darkness is stark, open, blinding. “I’m sorry, I called as soon as I found out.”

“I know… _thank you_.”

The line goes dead and I sit there for awhile, listening to the abrasive dial tone, echoing into my ear, drowning out the white-noise. I don’t know how long I’m there, the digital clock changes numbers so often, I lose track of where they are. I stop paying attention, details seem to blur, and I feel so numb. He’s gone. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but he’s _gone_ , and it feels like he took a part of my heart right with him. I knew it was coming, I’ve known for so long, that’s why Courtney and I set up the system we had. I knew that I needed to know, needed that closure. I guess the only thing I didn’t really _know_ was how badly it would actually hurt. _Four_ years, I left him four years ago and it took him that long to finally – take his life – give in to the pain. _Four_ years and I didn’t talk to him once. Kassiel did, he skyped him regularly, but I remained a hidden element to these meetings. They were for my son and my son only. I preferred it that way, avoiding the angry scar that always seemed to rear its head when I go too close him.

I sat there like a doll until the phone’s ringer suddenly went off, the receiver lighting up with its newest incoming message. It was Brandon again, Kas probably texted him with my cell-phone, he knew he wasn’t allowed calls after eight. It was well after eight. I can’t find the strength to tell him no as light explodes into the never-ending darkness, illuminating my belongings and reminding me that the world was still moving outside of this space.

“Mom… can I-“ He hesitates, even as I hand the phone out to him “- can I talk to Brandon a bit longer?”

“Yes dear, just be quiet.”

He nods, stealing the phone from my hand and disappearing back into the yellow light. He will be quiet, or maybe not, I don’t really care anymore as I allow my weight to fall back onto the dark, navy duvet. Everything about the day, the weirdness, fell into place with a single phone-call.

One hour after the news, I close my eyes, and decide to _dream_ again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome! AU dead ahead so please be patient and respectful of the choices I put into it. None of this is written to hurt, demoralize, or 'hate' on a particular person. It's purely for fun and because I've been having some of the weirdest dreams, thought I'd try writing it down!


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